


Mike Comes to Town

by bhgeorge19



Category: Motorcity, Persona 4
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 10:50:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bhgeorge19/pseuds/bhgeorge19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crossover fic I began at the start of Motorcity, inspired by some of the visual similarity of the characters and a simple idea: what if the characters from Motorcity (starting with Mike) dimension-tripped themselves to Inaba?</p>
<p>Warning for Persona 4 spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Long Ride

When Mike Chilton's slowed down there were plenty of thoughts coursing through his mind, but only one made its way down to his lips: "Well, that's a whole lot of green."

 

He wasn't in Kansas anymore. There simply weren't places like this anymore: big, wide open, and yes…there was that green that he couldn't stop looking at. Yellowish-green... and a little bit brown, and-- well, the less said about the sky, the better: it had started out a little purple, a little red, a little blue. Even Deluxe didn't have skies like this. The atmospheric management units surrounding it, the ones that made sure the air in the city was safe to breathe, had efficiently done away with the dust particles that made for colorful sunsets.

 

It was breathtaking and distracting. But only so much. He had no idea where this was, and it had finally started to bother him.

 

Particularly discomforting was the fact he didn't remember the journey there. He remembered feeling very strange, and seeing a lot of strange things, but it was like a drunken spell that had passed, leaving him alone with a gap in his thoughts and, in exchange, his three favorite things: the night, his wheels, and an open road.

And before all of that, there was-- wow, he couldn't even finish the thought. It was ridiculous enough that he didn't even bother thinking about it.

With nothing else to do, he just kept driving. How could he resist just doing that for a little while? There was no one to stop him for sure. But when you're speeding through the night in some unknown landscape, the 'speeding' part really doesn't let you pay attention to the signs.

 

Now, taking a break from that, he turned to a post. The sign, in blue was illuminated with lightbulbs! Wow-- that was old fashioned. They didn't have holo-signs here.

 

"Yasoinaba, 5KM..."

 

Well, that certainly didn't sound American. That wasn't even in English, for that matter. And he was able to read it.

 

"Okay... we'll put that on top of the mystery pile." Not one to let such things bog him down, he continued to drive in the given direction. Maybe someone there could help him out.

 

\---

 

The 2010 Census of Japan provides many curious and amusing facts about the populace. For example: in all of Japan Yasoinaba holds the dubious honor of having the fastest gossip distribution speed, clocking at 0.4 seconds after any given event before some variant of "OMG did u hear" was sent via any electronic device.

 

On the morning of a fine spring day of June, 2012, that record was broken by one Ayami Miyusawa, who was apparently so shocked by what she saw that her body was possessed by a thus-so-far unprecedented rush of adrenaline which made her fingers move to her phone even before her brain finished processing the facts before her.

 

The message, as would be recorded on the next census, was this:

 

"omg did u see the guy in the cool cra"

 

Shortly after came another message:

 

"*car"

 

It was followed by her dropping her phone as the guy in the car in question, who had parked down on the hill leading up to Yasoinaba High School, addressed her with a handsome smile and an easy-going wave of his hand. "Hey there. You wouldn't happen to know how a guy like me can get to Detroit from here?"

 

Ayami Miyusawa also held the record for producing the second highest pitched noise in Inaba, in the form of the squeal that left her before she and her friends ran away, leaving a dumbfounded Mike pursing his lips.

Curiously enough, the person who would, in three days' time, produce the highest pitched sound in Inaba happened to catch Mike off guard.

 

"Woah-hohh! Someone's from out of town. Looking a bit lost there, dude," said Yosuke Hanamura.

 

Mike turned and spent a second wondering when Chuck cut his hair. Then he realized it was someone else entirely, but it didn't stop some sympathetic, friendly grin from showing up on his face. "Yep. You could definitely say I'm not from around here."

 

Yosuke examined the car.

 

There were many ways to describe the black and green machine in front of him. Pressed by the very human urge to understand that which is in front of us, Yosuke's brain rushed to produce an adequate description until he settled with 'the most expensive toy car you could get for Christmas, multiplied by the eighties, and raised to the power of ten exhaust pipes.' "No kidding."

 

Mike leaned over the roof of his car, continuing to grin at the helpful carrot-head. "I gotta say, you're the first person that hasn't simply stood, sayin' nothing."

 

Yosuke chuckled awkwardly. "Well, uh. You could say I've seen my share of things... plus, I'm from the city."

 

"Huh. Which city?"

 

"Tokyo."

 

"The old or the new one?"

 

"I--" Yosuke stopped, and barked out: "the only one there is! Are you trying to pull a fast one on me?"

 

"Woah woah! No," Mike held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm just a guy who needs to know where he is." He paused. "And apparently when he is."

 

Yosuke shifted his weight, lowering his guard somewhat, although fixing Mike a questioning look. Arms-crossed, he asked him, head-tilted: "Have you tried, I dunno, asking at the police station?"

 

"I'm not sure that'd be a good idea."

 

"Why?"

 

"I'm a guy with no papers, no idea where he is, but with a darn long history, dude. Don't worry, it's nothing nasty, but I've got a healthy disrespect for authority."

 

Yosuke's tone sharpened. "How healthy?"

 

"Let's just say that it's reciprocal. If they respect me, I respect them," said Mike, leaning out the door and letting his arm hang over it.

 

You weren't a former member of an investigation team that solved a chain of supernatural murders (and attempted murders) without growing a bit of a backbone, or being able to read the atmosphere, so while the harsh words could've scared others, Yosuke wasn't so easily frightened. He'd gotten more hot air from Kanji - usually coming out of his nostrils like steam, almost every time right on Yosuke's face, and entirely at Yosuke's fault, every single time.

 

"Alright, hot shot rebel dude. Where're you headed? I guess I could give you some directions."

 

Mike's lips spread to an easy, smirk. He tapped the car door once, in an equally lazy gesture. "Would you believe me if I said Detroit?"

 

Yosuke stared for a second. "No."

 

"Fine, then I can't answer that."

 

Yosuke's patience began to wane. "The hell-- do you want help or not? Listen, I've got to get to school!" he barked. Still, he didn't detect malice in Mike's words… and considering the ride it was difficult not to believe that Mike came from SOMEWHERE outlandish (and by reference, Yosuke shared the Japanese belief that 'America' was as outlandish at it could get.)

 

"Well, you said you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Frankly," Mike shrugged his broad shoulders, "I wouldn't believe myself, so I get where you're coming from."

 

Well, that gave Yosuke an idea. "Okay. Where did you come from?"

 

"Would you believe me if I said Detroi--"

 

"Okay!" Yosuke spun on his heel and started walking. "See if you find someone else to help you."

 

As he walked away, Mike laughed lightly. "Hey man, chill. I thought I'd give you the easier answer to swallow. You definitely would call bullshit if I told you what happened."

 

"Really? Well that must be something," said Yosuke, reaching for his headphones.

 

"I don't know. There's a big blur in my head… but before, that, well… Do you get a lot of people falling through the TV around here?"


	2. Unconventional Means of Travel

Two weeks (in relative time) before Mike Chilton wound up in Inaba, Chuck had asked him for some pick-up lines. Well, more like begged him to teach him a few. Mike had to admit that he hadn't put a lot of thought to those, but had promised him that, if he ever found out a good one, he'd hold onto it and let Chuck know.

 

Next time he'd see Chuck, Mike would tell him that "I fell through the TV" will get a Japanese redhead boy in your car.

 

"Alright, talk-- and drive, would ya? I gotta get to school."

 

"You don't sound surprised," Mike noted as he revved up Mutt. Absentmindedly he went on to add: "Seatbelt."

 

Click. "I'm not, I-- DUDE! There's a speed limit here!" Yosuke screeched.

 

Mike simply grinned. Aw. It's like this guy was trying to make him feel right at home! "Thought I could drive around in circles a bit-- okay fine. So, what do you want to know?"

 

"Just-- how'd you fall through the TV?" he paused. "With a car."

 

"You're asking me how I fell through the TV... with a car? Is that what's naggin' your noggin?"

 

"Dude--"

 

"Okay, fine. I was driving around the Widowmaker--"

 

"The what?"

 

"Wicked curve. Goes over Motorcity and goes over all the ads-- damn great view," Mike turned his eyes up, sheepishly, "and leeeeet's just say I missed the curve... and kinda fell off the road and straight towards one of those big plasma screens."

 

"Huh."

 

"You'd imagine my surprise when I didn't break through it, but ended up in this really weird place..."

 

"Weird how?"

 

"Weird like 'well, that's not what I expected.'"

 

Yosuke rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah I guess you expected burning to death or something."

 

Mike laughed. "What?! Nah! This baby here has taken far worse than that," he said, giving the steering wheel a pat. "But anyway-- I ended up on the road, again, except there was nothing but the road. And the sky with--"

 

"Swirling lines," Yosuke filled in, "like an old TV out of phase?"

 

One of Mike's brows arched. Not that Yosuke could see it behind his hair-- which was, admittedly, something Yosuke was used to. Damn, was that kind of haircut getting popular outside of Inaba? "Oddly specific. I take it I'm not the first."

 

"Not really."

 

"So, what are we talking about here...?"

 

"It's hard to explain."

 

"I'm an open-minded fellow," Mike noted.

 

"No, really. We never quite got it. It's like--" Yosuke did a few gestures, though his eyes were peering past his hands and at all the gadgets and curious, shiny, tempting buttons on the car deck. "Like another dimension, and it's shaped by what people think about, or the stuff they bottle up inside."

 

"Man," Mike grinned. "Sounds wild."

 

"Sounds wild? That's all you can think of it?"

 

"I'm not one to let myself get bogged down trying to get all the answers on one shot."

 

Now, Yosuke scowled, deeply. "Yeah well, you're right about 'wild': people get killed there. People got killed there."

 

Mike's smile vanished quickly. "Huh. Sorry."

 

"So, all you saw was a road?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

Yosuke's frown didn't go away. "Anything else? Nobody else?"

 

"Like what? No. I just saw a road..." Mike tilted his head.

 

"And you just... kept on driving?"

 

"Well yeah," Mike's grin returned. "Give a self-respecting guy an open road-- what else can you do?"

 

Just as Yosuke's thoughts were veering towards the inevitable comparison between the man next to him and his partner, grievously absent at the time, he stopped himself and put his priorities on the line: "Alright, listen. Whatever you do, and wherever you're from, you've gotta lay low while you're here. It's going to be freaking hard to help you if you up and go get arrested or something. Specially since you don't--" Yosuke blinked, "Wait, you're not even Japanese, right? How come you're talking Japanese?"

 

"I was about to ask how come you're talking in English."

 

"I'm not!" Yosuke squeaked, almost indignantly.

 

"Really? Because these ears of mine are hearing you in precious americano, pal. Not to mention I think I can read all the signs around here-- just like that one over there. Yasogami High School..."

 

"That's my stop, actually."

 

"Right," Mike drawled, before his face slowly transformed into every mother - and father's - worst nightmare. It was the face of the boy they warned their daughters about. Every little bit too charming for the bad advice it would give out: "So, you wanna skip?"

 

"Y--What? No! We got mandatory attendance here, dude."

 

Mike laughed. "Oh wow. Gee. Mandatory attendance. Well, in that case I don't see how anyone could ever skip... Unless of course they realized that nothing will really happen and the real world is out there."

 

Yosuke arched a brow. "Did you, like, run away from some PSA from the eighties or something? Something about bad influences?"

 

This time, Mike tossed his head back as he laughed. "Oh wow. You're one square case, aren't you?" he chided, though his expression softened into an easy-going grin. "But you're alright. Fine, I'll drop you off."

 

Yosuke nearly quacked at this. "Wait! No-no-no-no-no. You can't drop me off at the front gate. Everyone will see I came with you."

 

"Hm. Can't say I see the downside..."

 

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

 

Mike grinned. "You make yourself an easy target."

 

"Just--!" Yosuke began, pausing as he tried to force the red down from his cheeks. "There's an alley around the hill. Drop me off there-- and THEN I need you to lay low. Get your car out of town or something."

 

"I can think of ways to hide it."

 

"Good. Then-- uh, do you have a phone?" Yosuke paused.

 

"Nope. But I'm pretty sure I can fix that."

 

There was a tense pause.

 

"Yeah, I'm going to bash some storefront with a crowbar and steal something," Mike dryly remarked, rolling his eyes-- his pupils landing a dry look on Yosuke at the end of their spin. "Chill, man. I'm a libertarian anarchist on the hottest wheels you'll ever see, but I'm not a thug. I'll ask someone if the can borrow me theirs or something."

 

With the car parking, Yosuke opened his school case and took out a paper to write down three numbers. "Anything happens, you call me here. If that doesn't work, you call this guy, Shirogane, here, and you tell him 'Yosuke sent you' and that 'you know about the other side of the TV.' And if that doesn't work, as the very last resource, you call this guy."

 

"Who's this guy?"

 

"He's the uncle of my p-- best friend. And he's in the police…"

 

While Mike balked at the last word, he took the paper. "Alright, guess I can trust you."

 

"Uh-- yeah, I guess so," Yosuke said, turning to open the door to the car and step out. "Try not to get anybody's attenti--"

 

"Dude, relax, I'm used to keeping a low profile."

 

"That so, huh?"

 

"Yep. I'm in a rebel group that's trying to overthrow a corporate dictatorship. I know a thing or two about staying under the radar."

 

Before Yosuke could respond, Mike closed the door to the car, flashed him a criminally handsome grin, and drove off so fast that he broke a couple of laws, a few from the local traffic code and one or two found in physics books.

===

"Mike's just… gone!"

 

"What do you mean 'just gone'?!"

 

"I mean he's just gone, bro! Just, voof! Right into the air!"

 

The Burners were overlooking the broken railing of Widowmaker. A steep fall into a world of buzzing neon lights, flickering holo-displays and some plasma screens. Admittedly, years and years of decay had made it flimsy, and even then the urban planners for Motorcity hadn't designed them to resist high-velocity supercars.

 

A distressed Chuck was rapidly typing away at keyboards while hovering holo-displays poured out raw data. Texas had once hypothesized that the screens were just gibberish which Chuck liked to put up to look smart, and it was to Chuck and Dutch's distress that, for once, Texas was right.

 

"I don't understand any of these readings," Chuck said. Screens showing turbulent waves and energy measurements overlapped with some footage hacked from a nearby camera of Mike's car flying into the screen.

 

"What's there to understand?" Texas asked, pointing at the waves before crossing his arms. "It seems Mike just drove himself to the Wicked Surf Dimension. I mean, he's probably riding the waves right now."

 

"Not the time, Texas," Julie hissed.

 

"I know. He could've waited for the summer, even."

 

ROTH flew by the group to another, makeshift technical station set up by Dutch and Jacob, downloading a new batch of visual information taken from the crash site to their workstations. 

With concern making his aged face crease, Jacob had to also accept the alarming fact that Texas could have a point.

 

"I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it with my own eyes. There's a sort of spacial warp there..." Jacob said, using his fingers to stretch an image of the TV screen at the moment of Mike's crash.

 

"Warp?" Julie asked. She gave it more thought before tentatively suggesting, "You mean like space bending?"

 

"Bending and touching its toes," Jacob said.

 

"But why is it there?" Dutch said. "It just looks like a regular TV set. There are no visible modifications to it. Doesn't seem like anyone tinkered with it."

 

"Haven't heard anything in KaneCo about space distortion," Julie supplied.

 

"You wouldn't have," Jacob said. "Kane tried some experiments in space manipulation when we thought we could create faster means of transportation to replace vehicles."

 

"Really? What happened?" Dutch said.

 

"Well, have you tried driving a truck into a gap the size of a manhole?"

 

Texas clicked his tongue. "Not yet."

 

"Kane did."

 

"What happened?"

 

"Well, the truck got through… it was just shaped something like," Jacob made a rather complex pose that people over a certain age and with no experience in contortionism are not advised to do. Somehow, he managed to painlessly rearrange himself back to normal, even over Chuck's anguished squeals at the idea that Mike had ended similarly 'rearranged'.

 

"Calm down everyone!" Julie said, holding her hands up. "We have NO reason to believe this is the same case."

 

"Yeah, I'm with Jules here. Too much nerd talk! I say we just get in our cars, you guys drive home, and I drive in and ride the waves out to wherever Mike is, bring him skinny butt back, and we can all go back to watching me do what I do best?" said Texas, miraculously managing to only strike three kung fu poses in the process.

 

"Hold on!" Dutch shouted. "We really can't just take that risk. We gotta test things out first. If we all jump in there and something goes wrong, there ain't gonna be anyone left behind to protect Motorcity in case Kane attacks."

 

Texas' mood deflated. "Aww. But I'd already thought of how we could put surf boards under Stronghorn's wheels..."

 

Dutch stared. "On second thought, we could send Texas first."

 

"Dutch, no."

 

"I think we can get some camera bots ready to go through and give is some feed in no time," Jacob proposed.

 

"Well, if it turns out it's safe, we'll have to plan a rescue mission," Julie said. "And consider who can stay behind in case Kane makes a movie. I'll go run a check to see if he has any sort of attack planned for today, though last I knew, nothing."

 

With a shudder coursing through him, and one speedy move of his fingers turning the screens off, Chuck said. "W-well, if we have a rescue mission. I-I'm going. It's not like I even ride a car anyway, so I'm the-the... the least valuable asset here, in case Kane does attack."

 

Julie squirmed. It was the day of people admitting to uncomfortable truths. "Well, let's not think about it for now… We still need to find out where Mike is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I'm using male pronouns for Naoto.


	3. Challenging Authority and other ways of passing time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Chapter still in progress!!))

Mike was going to lay low.

 

But a little driving couldn't hurt. Not when that Yosuke guy would probably be in school for a couple of hours. No better way to find a place to hide Mutt than getting a /good/ look around, right?

Thankfully this tiny city had plenty of those. Bankrupt stores, long open lots that nobody would inspect, and a few silos off the main road. He was in no rush to pick one, and when he finally did, four or five hours in, he'd found one old barnyard ready to fall apart - and thought it quaint - and drove Mutt where it wouldn't be a bother.

 

Then he walked. Under the sun, the beautiful scorching sun. He didn't need to go for long before he decided to throw his jacket over his shoulder: it was just inconvenient, and as it was his white shirt was sticking to him a bit.

 

In the back of his mind he tried to abate his concern for Motorcity with faith in his friends. Jacob and Dutch would think of something. Chuck would think of something. And he could trust Jules to keep tabs on Kane, and maybe serve as a de-facto leader in his absence. She was the best at it: Chuck was too anxious, Dutch wasn't half bad but he was more practical than leaderlike, and Texas, well, he didn't want to think about that, not right now. But Julie was clever. The city was going to be okay, and he would be back soon.

 

Might as well enjoy the proverbial ride until then.

 

His walk had taken him back to central Inaba, and down an old-fashioned street, lined up with old houses. A shopping district as far as he could tell.

 

The gossip was starting to get out of hand. Hadn't these people ever seen a drifter before? He was sure he'd heard two older-looking ladies comment about how his outfit sure said something about today's youth, shortly before he'd heard them whisper things that said something about the elderly. For one thing, it proved that the old people of this place still had a libido.

 

Awkward.

 

How long were these kids going to be in school anyway?

 

"Hey. You."

 

He recognized the tone of voice even before he turned around. That was an officer. It was nice to know that, in the possibility of multiple timelines or dimensions or whatever (Mike briefly thanked Chuck's LARPing for opening his mind to certain ideas) some things were still the same.

 

He turned around to see a frown with a stubbly, middle-aged, if somewhat fatherly looking man attached to it. The man was staring at him, in an odd place between critical and stunned.

 

"Are you the guy I hear's been driving some weird car around these parts?" Dojima asked, his accusing tone somewhat uneven. Mike thought he saw something like recognition in his eyes. 

This guy wasn't wearing a uniform, but he looked like the poster for a plainclothes cop if he'd ever seen one. Mike didn't answer right away.

 

"I hear you've been breaking some speed limits. More like all of them. Can I see your papers, son?"

 

Mike flinched playfully. "Oohh! First question and I won't be answering that the way you'd like, sir."

 

"Shame about that."

 

"A crying shame," said Mike, beaming a bit, stretching his arms sideways for a moment. "But whatcha-gonna-do, huh? We can't have everything we'd like..."

 

"Uh-huh..." Dojima stepped closer. "Guess if I asked any more questions here, things would go just the same, huh?"

 

"You're sharp."

 

"And you're in trouble."

 

"That's alright. I've been out of trouble before. It was horrible, and I swore I'd never do it again," Mike grinned. "You gonna cuff me and take me downtown, pops?"

 

"Maybe. Unless you wanna come willingly."

 

"With a guy like you? I probably would!" Mike replied. "Buuuut I'm afraid I can't. Not feeling it today..."

 

"Alright, that's enough fast-talk," Dojima said, reaching for his pocket, just when he saw something terrible coming their way.


End file.
